Forged in Ice 2 extra chapter – Rediscovery
by Veltzeh
Summary: Chapter 2.5 of Forged in Ice 2: Shrike meets his father. (Only OCs in this extra chapter.)


Rediscovery

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**Author note:** This chapter belongs between chapters 2 (A Revelation and a Secret) and 3 (Future) of _Forged in Ice 2_, but since nothing relevant happens in it, I removed it from the actual story. (It's pretty obvious how much NaNoWriMo filler this has.)

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Shrike wrote his father a letter in which he asked whether he could meet with him at some point. Four weeks later, he got a reply in which his father said that a meeting was okay and they could meet at the flat during his next vacation. Shrike's vacation times were more flexible, so he simply requested a short vacation during that time and got it.

Shrike did not quite know what he was even doing. He did not think that he should be meeting his father just because Linke had told him to, but on the other hand, he thought that Linke's advice was reasonable. Therefore, he decided to go through with the idea.

At the end of October in 1915, on a Friday night, Shrike took a ride on a supply truck to North City. It was simple to go along and it would be just as simple to return with it or another truck Sunday night. The truck dropped him on a suitable spot and he walked the five kilometres to his father's old flat. He visited the same store he had often been to as a child and bought a bit of food and drink.

Unsurprisingly, the building was still there. It was a four-story block of flats next to five others just like it. They were located just a short distance off from the main road, and the side road made a U-turn, circling the front of each of the six buildings. They were over 40 years old now and built from reddish grey bricks that had faded in colour over time.

Shrike walked on the side road and did not bother to look around. The only things he noticed were that since the last time that he had been there, the children's park had been moved, a large tree had been cut down and a new batch of bushes were decorating the sides of the front door of the entrance A of the third block of flats. He opened the entrance door and climbed the stairs up to the third floor. Once there, he walked straight to the door of flat number 34, dug his keys from his pocket and opened the door.

The flat's small entrance closet contained only an empty rack and a broken umbrella on the floor. Shrike hung his overcoat on the rack and untied his shoes and left them next to the umbrella.

The flat was not very big, only about 46 square metres in area. It had two rooms, a closet, a bathroom and a kitchen. The place was just like it had been since the last time he had been there. From where he stood, he could see the closed door of the cleaning closet to the right of the opposite wall. He paid no attention to it. That door was rarely opened. On the wall was a shelf that contained some tools, magazines and miscellaneous things that Shrike and his father had not bothered to throw away.

To the left of the shelf was the half-open door to his father's room. Shrike glanced in and that room too looked just like it had last looked. A bookshelf with books on the left, a window on the opposite wall, a double bed whose right side was completely unused, a pile of undefined items in the lower right corner and an armchair right to the right of the door.

Next to the door to his father's room was the door to Shrike's room, and next to that door was another bookshelf, this one also with books and also some photos. One photo pictured Shrike and his parents not very long after he had been born. Another photo was of Shrike's father just after he had been admitted into the military, and a third was of Shrike in the same exact situation. A fourth photo was of Shrike and his father at the ending party of upper comprehensive school. Shrike dropped his bag in front of the shelf.

The bathroom was to the left of the entrance closet, and the door to it was opposite to Shrike's and his father's rooms' doors. Beyond the bathroom was the kitchen. It had a kitchen table, four chairs, many closets and cupboards, a small refrigerator that was turned off, a small freezer similarly turned off, a stove and sinks. The refrigerator had nothing in it and was not even plugged in, so Shrike did not even bother to look inside.

The door to Shrike's room was ajar. He pushed it open and saw that the room was also as it had been. There was a bed just in front of the door, a window to the left of it, another window on the left wall, a desk in front of the left window and a bookshelf to the right of the door.

The whole place was slightly dusty, but Shrike saw no reason to clean anything, since it was just dust. The flat was rather chilly because its heating was turned on minimal settings – there was no point in keeping the flat properly warmed if no one lived in it. In fact, the landlord had wanted to rent the flat to others, but since Shrike's father had bought it a long time ago and he did not cause any disturbance, misbehave or otherwise do anything bothersome, the landlord had no right to take the flat away or the means to acquire it through a court case.

Shrike did not even turn up the heat, because there was no point in that either. He and his father would be gone in two days. What he did do was reach into the control box of the flat that was located in the wall between the bathroom and the kitchen. He flipped on the switches without even looking: he turned on the water as well as the power to the lights and stove.

Then all he did was warm up his food on the stove and eat it before going to bed.

Shrike woke up in the morning and spent a couple of hours eating and performing his morning routine and then reading some of his old books. He discovered an old alchemy book that he had forgotten that he had and put it into his bag so that he could read it in the Fort later. He chose another of his old alchemy books and sat down at the kitchen table to read it.

Eventually his father also came home. Like Shrike, he came in mostly silently. He was 49 years old and like his son, had worn glasses when he was younger, but by now his eyesight had become more long-sighted, so he no longer wore them. He had short hair and no beard or moustache, but he did not care about his appearance enough to shave or cut his hair very often. His hair was slightly lighter than Shrike's. He was also a few centimetres taller and slightly more powerfully built, but otherwise quite a lot like Shrike. And like Shrike, he was wearing an Amestrian uniform with the marks of a captain, not having bothered to change into casual clothing. His full name was Shannon Shrike.

The junior Shrike could have dressed in regular clothes, but had chosen not to, since that generated less laundry. He was, however, wearing wool socks with the uniform, which looked odd.

Shrike's father dropped his bag next to his son's.

"Hello, Kaine," he said.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hm... it's been a pretty long time. You look a lot more grown up than five years ago."

"Well I guess that happens," replied Shrike with half a smile.

"Heh, yeah."

"Did that wound in your stomach heal okay?"

"Yeah, after the first six months it was like nothing had happened." Shannon Shrike sat down on another kitchen chair. "Hm..." He seemed like he was thinking of what to say. "Oh, you got promoted, right? I saw your officer's overcoat in the rack and..." He looked at the rank marks on Shrike's shoulders. "Warrant officer, I see."

"Yeah."

"Good, good."

"And you're a captain... You were a first lieutenant five years ago, right?"

"Yeah. Hm, you've advanced more quickly than I did..."

Shrike thought his father's tone of voice was odd; it sounded very slightly resentful but also congratulatory. He did not really want to get stuck on that and thought that maybe he would feel the same way. "Well, I pretty much jumped straight from corporal to warrant officer when I got to be one of the ventilation specialists in Briggs."

"Ah, yeah. I see."

"Major General Armstrong hinted a few months ago that she would promote me to be the ventilation expert once our old expert retires. I guess that would make me a second lieutenant, but then that position doesn't really require a specific military rank..."

Shannon Shrike was silent for a moment. "Do you like working there?"

"Uh... yeah, it's not bad."

"Oh... good. I just wondered that maybe you would've wanted to do something else."

Shrike did not understand that his father might have hinted that he was offering another kind of job to him. "Briggs is okay. Of course there are some problems but I guess there always will be no matter what the place is."

"And you're content with that?"

"Uh, I guess. Oh, I just managed to change my responsibilities a little. I wouldn't have thought that I could lose some of my close combat training just by asking about it... Now that I think about it, it feels silly but I still remember that I didn't ask because I didn't want to get rejected."

Shannon Shrike looked a little inquisitive. "Less close combat training?"

"Well, I always hated that. Now I can study alchemy instead."

"Oh. Well, that sounds useful, I guess." Another short silence followed. "What can you do with alchemy?"

"Well, just a while ago I mostly just fixed pipes and screws, but I started studying more some weeks ago. I think I could fix buildings now, and I can transmute things that are more complex than just a few basic elements."

"Ah. Well, I don't know much about that." They were quiet for a moment again. "So, you said in your letter that you wanted to meet and maybe do something... What would you like to do?"

"Uh, I don't know really... Just... I thought it might be nice if could meet a bit more often. I don't know why, I... well, one of my colleagues just suggested it. He said it's good to be in touch with family."

"Oh." Shannon Shrike had no particular thoughts toward the issue. "Well, I guess I'm okay with that. And... it is good to know that you do want to see me. I wasn't quite sure you did..."

Shrike chortled a little. "Uh, I thought the same thing about you."

Shannon Shrike twisted his mouth in a sort of smile for a moment. "Yeah..."

"So... do you... do anything when you have free time? Like a hobby?"

"Hmm. Oh, hm, I guess it could count as a hobby. I go to different restaurants and eat different dishes, rate them and compare them. Some of my colleagues ask me which restaurant is good in some given area."

Shrike raised his eyebrow at this sudden revelation.

"Sometimes I go to the theatre."

"I read novels... Outwardly that's a pretty boring, I guess, but most books are really interesting."

"I remember you doing that when you were younger, too."

After another moment of silence, Shrike continued talking. "Well... we could go eat, I guess. At least that's very easy to do, heh heh."

Shannon Shrike smirked a little. "Yeah, it is. Do you know any of the restaurants here?"

"No... I still do my cooking by buying sausages and rice from the market and heating it up on the stove."

"...Uuh. Though, if I didn't always eat at restaurants, I guess that is what I would do as well. Well... Do you have a favourite food?"

"Hmm... I guess fish sticks would have to be one, at least."

Shannon Shrike gave his son a look but figured soon that if the only thing the kid had actually eaten during his life was food cooked in school or in the military mess, he really would not know of any better.

Shrike looked thoughtful for a short moment. "But... I'm not that picky with food. I mean, I drink the coffee in Briggs and sort of like it," he added.

"Oh. That... I've had that a few times. It's... it's really bad."

Shrike grinned a bit.

"Well, I guess I should choose the restaurant then. Hm... There's a nice small diner called the 'Butch's Ship' about three kilometres away."

"That's okay by me."

"Hm... Do you want to leave right away?"

"Well, I ate in the morning but if we walk there, I'll be hungry again at that time. So, I'm ready to go now."

"All right."

The two men got up, put on their shoes, hats, gloves and overcoats and left the building. They started walking toward North City's centre. The block of flats was located rather far from the centre.

They walked rather silently for some time, but Shannon Shrike broke the silence. "Um... I'm sorry if this is a too forward question... but I suppose it's one that parents usually ask. Have you given any thought to making a family of your own?"

"Uh." Shrike was taken by surprise and had to think a little. At least now what Linke had said about parents pestering their children about getting married sounded more plausible. "I... not really. Well, I've thought about it a little but not at all seriously. I don't know," he mumbled.

"Oh... That's okay. But... if you do get a family, I would like to meet them if that's okay."

"I'm pretty sure it would be."

"...Just, don't feel pressured to make your own family if you're not ready. I think I was a bit too young when we had you and... well... I like to think I could do some things differently now."

"Oh..." Shrike thought for a moment. "Well, you could still try, I mean, to get another child. It isn't like you'd be too old for that."

"Eh, uh... I just never could find another woman I'd have liked enough."

"Ah. Well, that is difficult. And I guess you'd still be away from home a lot. Military is like that. I was last at home in summer last year. And I don't even travel."

Shannon Shrike did not say anything to that. He was, after all, rather regretful about the fact that he had not been there with his son during his childhood and youth. He could have requested a position with much less travelling, but he had never done that and he could not even explain the reasons to himself.

Shrike, then again, had no idea whatsoever if he should or even could explain anything about Envy. He decided he was unable to explain the issue, and left it unsaid.

The two walked on and reached a more concentrated spot of shops and restaurants. The streets were rather narrow and long, with the gardens of the blocks of flats having unproportionally more area than the streets. Shannon Shrike led the way into the small restaurant.

"Butch's Ship" was a riverboat-themed diner. It was not very big; there were only six tables in the main room. The kitchen was at the back. There was a young couple eating on the left at the table closest to the front windows. Shrike and his father walked to the counter in front of the kitchen. The chef, a middle-aged blonde woman of a medium build, was there to greet them.

"Good day! Say, isn't it Shrike? First Lieutenant Shrike? No, that's a different mark now... Captain?"

"Good morning, Butch. You're right," he responded to her queries about his rank. He spoke a little restrainedly but smiled a little.

Butch turned at the younger Shrike. "And you're... his son? You look so alike!" Shrike nodded. "But I don't think I've seen you before. Nice to meet you. And you're a... I'm sorry, I can't remember that rank."

"Um, nice to meet you too. And that's okay. I'm a warrant officer." It only took a moment until Shrike understood that he should introduce himself. "Oh, yes, I'm Kaine Shrike." He shook Butch's hand and smiled to her.

"So, I have a feeling that you've come here to eat! Isn't that right? Here you go, an empty table and a couple of menus. Let me know once you've decided on your dish. I'll bring you a bit of bread in the meantime."

The Shrikes took off their coats, hung them on a clothes rack and sat down at the table. Shrike read the short list through while Butch brought the bread and a jug of water along with two glasses. Shannon Shrike asked something about a particular dish while Shrike did not really have a clue what the few options really were like past the obvious ingredients.

"I don't really know what to order," Shrike said after a while.

"Well... try the char and bread with corn, that's somewhat similar to fish sticks."

"All right."

The two placed their orders and waited while Butch prepared the food. Shannon Shrike used the time to list the places where he had been going to during his work travels and what he had approximately been doing there. Most of it was secret and even he did not know all the details, but both he and his son knew how it was with the special travelling units and military secrecy.

"But lately even my missions have become a bit more open. I suppose it's got to do with that conspiracy getting revealed in Central and the ruling body becoming less corrupted. I hope I didn't unknowingly do anything too bad while under their orders."

"Mhm... That reminded me... Armstrong suggested that I could become a state alchemist, but even if I found out a good research topic, I'm not sure if I should, since they can get called to war like in Ishval."

"Yeah, that might... not be a good idea. Did you hear that last year there was this shady character in Central and elsewhere killing state alchemists? And he managed to murder quite a lot of them."

"Yeah... But maybe I'd be safe in Briggs."

"That's possible..."

"Or I could research something that's utterly useless in combat or war in general."

Shannon Shrike twisted his mouth into a small grin. "That's an option too."

"Still, it's pretty academic at this point," said Shrike with a shrug. "I have no idea what to research..."

At that time, Butch arrived with their food and set down their plates as well as Shannon Shrike's glass of wine and Shrike's glass of milk. Shannon Shrike did not even think to ask why his son did not drink wine, perhaps because he still thought of his son as a child and not an adult who had been old enough to drink for nearly ten years. Likewise, Shrike could not imagine himself drinking wine because he had never done so and had not felt any need to change his habits.

Nonetheless, the two started eating right away and did not speak much while eating since talking while eating was not very good manners in their opinion. Shrike ate his plateful quite quickly and obviously liked the food even though he did not slow down enough to appropriately enjoy it.

"Wow, that was... that was pretty awesome," said Shrike when he was done. "I've never had food like that." His father smiled a bit.

Butch walked next to Shrike after he had finished and was rather happy about the compliments. "Thank you, Shrike junior! If there's still room, you can help yourself to more bread. Or would you like dessert? There's a small dessert menu as well."

"Oh. I guess I could get dessert as well..." He looked at the small list and came to a decision quickly. "I'd like to have a piece of chocolate cake."

"Certainly, just a moment." Butch took Shrike's plate away and returned shortly after with a piece of cake. "There you go."

"Thank you." Shrike started eating the cake and was done with it just before his father finished his food.

Butch came to collect the plates quite soon after Shannon Shrike had finished.

"The cake was delicious," commented Shrike.

"Thank you!" Butch set the dishes on her arms and turned toward the senior Shrike. "How about you? How did you find the meal?"

"I was very good. It's been a while since I had cod and lamb. The only off thing I noticed that the sauce may have had too much of that spice... what is it called, it tasted similar to... hmm..."

"Oh, that spice?"

"Yes. It was pretty dominating."

"I see, I've wondered about it myself. I like its taste very much myself, but everyone is not like me!" She gave a small chuckle. "Now, how would you like some dessert?"

"No thank you this time. I had a week's worth of sweet food two days ago."

"I see, well that is true once age starts to kick in. There is only so much sweet food one can eat. But I'm glad you enjoyed it! Now, let me take these back to the kitchen..."

Shrike and his father got up and started putting on their overcoats.

"I can pay for the food. It's not a big deal," said Shannon Shrike. His son nodded.

Butch came back and Shannon Shrike gave her the money. "Thank you, dears! I hope you will come back later, though knowing you military types, it might take a couple of years."

The three said goodbye and Shrike left with his father.

"Wow, I didn't know food could taste like that," said Shrike once they were walking down the street again.

Shannon Shrike smiled a little. "Yes, I never had the patience to cook for myself, so going to restaurants was a natural choice. The only problem with this kind of arrangement is that when I go to eat in the mess, the food often pales by comparison."

"Oh, I see. That might be a some kind of inconvenience."

"One good thing about travelling around the place is that I get to eat more often at restaurants than in messes."

Shrike smirked.

They walked silently for a moment before his father started speaking again. "Say... Would it be a good idea to take a photo of us? The ones we have at home are rather old."

"Sure."

"I don't know of any photography establishments in here though."

"Neither do I."

"Well, let's walk around. Maybe we'll find one or can ask someone."

The two men walked around for two hours before they located a small shop that offered photography services.

They entered the shop and got the photo taken without any hassle. In it, they stood side by side in their overcoats, with the rank marks showing, and smiled faintly at the camera. They got two copies of it, one for each of them.

They did not do anything remarkable during the rest of the day. At night, they went to sleep at the flat, and the next day, at noon, they walked in the town again and went to eat at another restaurant. After that, they both went to North City headquarters, Shrike to wait for a ride back to Briggs and his father to receive the next mission.

Shrike had a chance to meet his father's small team shortly. Besides Shannon Shrike, the team had in it a first lieutenant, one warrant officer, one sergeant major and two corporals. All of them were at least five years older than Shrike if not more. They were polite and did not pry into any of his business past the general level, which was probably a trait of a travelling unit. The things their colleagues in the military did were not their business and the less they knew about it, the better.

"I didn't know you had a son," said one of the corporals, a little surprised. "I didn't think that you were a person who'd have kids, sir."

Shrike made a small smirk.

"Uh... I'm probably not," said Shannon Shrike, marginally embarrassed.

"So, you are also married then, sir?" the corporal continued.

"I was..." Shannon Shrike trailed off and spoke no more.

"My mother died when I was very small," said Shrike with a shrug. He was not good at talking about the issue, but it was obvious his father was even worse at it.

Some of Shannon Shrike's soldiers looked slightly taken aback and apologetic.

"Oh... sorry, sir, I didn't know," said the corporal.

They changed the topic and spoke instead about Shrike's duties in Fort Briggs, since the travelling unit had little experience of working in one place for several years or more at a time.

Eventually Shannon Shrike was called into a briefing along with his team, and a little later Shrike's target truck came.

The truck arrived at Fort Briggs late at night, and Shrike went to bed shortly after.


End file.
